Rhovian's POV
After leaving Ylenna alone like that, Rhovian felt a prick in his heart. He knew she would suffer by his side, but he had no choice on that matter. He was not gonna commit the same mistake as his father did, if he could avoid it. He would bear no heir to carry that damned curse, at least as long as he lived in the palace.
When Rhovian was six years old, he was playing with the son of a minor lord at the castle's external grounds. They were chasing after each other, branding wood sticks for swords, when, suddenly, Rhovian fell and hurt his hand on a stone. He got up, annoyed by the pain. When looking at his hand, he noticed that it made a pretty deep cut, from where blue blood was dripping.
Immediately, his servant, lord Karl, came and covered him up with a cape, turning to the other boy with urgency in his voice:
— Young Lord Tony, have you seen what happened with his highness?
The small boy shook his head in confusion.
— His highness fell, right? Is he hurt?
— No. He's okay. — The servant seemed relieved. — You are sure you have not seen any wound, right?
The boy only kept shaking his head, still not understanding.
— That is good. I am just afraid you would feel unpleased by the sight of a scratch. His highness is fine, but I will have to take him inside. Please, return to your nurse.
The boy nodded and walked back to the main garden where his nurse was chatting with the other ladies of the kingdom.
— Come, your highness. Let's get you inside. — The servant carried the boy to his bedroom inside the castle, urging a maid on the way to bring him the royal doctor.
After stopping the bleeding and getting the cut cleaned and dressed, the doctor left the room.
— Listen, your highness. What happened today was of big risks. No one can ever see your blood.
— Why? — Little Rhovian asked, confused.
— It is… it is a…
— It is because you're not completely royal, Rhovian. — His father, King Ronan Kozhar, entered his room. — I'm sorry. But we must keep this a secret.
The servant, who was bowing to the king, took his leave as soon as the monarch waved his hand in his direction.
— I am afraid the day has come earlier than I expected. But I will tell you the main things you need to know.
Ronan was a warm father, who always tried his best to be in his sons' presence, despite being busy with his government obligations.
— Your mother was not the deceased Queen Irna, but another woman, from a different… species than ours. It was because of her that you got blue blood instead of red. And no one besides us and your main servants may know this. If anyone ever finds out, your life will be in danger, do you understand?
Rhovian could only nod his head.
— Good. Son, listen. — the monarch sat beside him, on the bed. — I am sorry for this… one day, when you can understand things better, I will explain everything to you. Until then, just do not ever let them see your blood. If someone sees it, they will have to die. You got it, right?
With that thought in mind, Rhovian grew up quite isolated. Since he should not bleed in front of others, he could not risk playing in uneven ground with other kids his age. So the only kind of practical entertainment he had was training with his master the arts of sword, horse riding and archery.
When he was 12, though, Rhovian was having a hard time dealing with the anguish of never being able to do basic things, like running outside, playing with his brothers or other boys his age and even getting a cat pet, with the risk of the animal accidentally scratching his skin.
He slipped out from the meticulous watch of Karl, his most loyal servant who had been by his side since he could remember, and ran to the woods outside the palace. He did not intend to run from the castle, only to venture for a while without the sternal gazes there.
But, as a kid who was never left by his own devices, he was soon lost.
Going to the woods could not have been a worst idea. Rhovian soon got scratches all over his face and hands, uncovered by his clothes. He was tired, hungry and aching all over from walking around to try to find his way back.
— What should I do… — He cried in anguish. — There is no way I can get back now… stupid!
That was when he heard a crack close to him. Turning back slowly to face what he thought could be a wild wolf or mountain lion, his body was shivering. Would it be this way he would meet his death?
But, before he could see whatever was sneaking there, he heard a voice:
— What the hell… I mean… What could you possibly be doing out here, your highness?
Rhovian froze when he recognized the face. It was Nivan, the son of his coach, who was 2-3 years older than him.
— You're a total mess… — the boy approached him with a mix of disapproving and cheering look. — Damn. You're blue blooded, then?
"If someone sees it, they'll have to die." his father's words, from six years ago, echoed in his mind.
— it is… it is not my blood, it is… tree… tree sap.
Nivan arched one eyebrow in disbelief.
— Is it? I doubt it, but, if you say so… whatever the case is, don't worry. I'll tell nobody. Let's take you back to the palace.
— No! You cannot… you cannot go there with me like this… if…
— If they know I've found out about you being blue-blooded, they'll get me killed, right? Yes, I heard the stories about the ancient Cian people and what happened to them. Don't worry, I'll not be seen with you in this state. Come here.
The young lad got down and took a tissue and a tiny bottle from a bag he was carrying. He dampened the fabric with the white liquid from the bottle and cleaned Rhovian's wounds.
— There. The scratches won't heal right away, but the blood stains are gone and it won't be bleeding for now.
— What… What is this?
— It's a herb extract. I can't quite remember the name. My mother works in an apothecary. She knows a lot about herbs and always gives me some stuff like this to carry. Now, let's go.
Nivan quickly guided Rhovian to the right path, sometimes joking about a piece of fabric the younger guy had left behind on his trail. Soon, they arrived at the palace.
— It is already sunset… — Rhovian observed, feeling his stomach grumbling.
— You were lost for a while? Oh, my father is right there, he-
— Nivan!! Have you seen… Your… your highness? Thank God you're fine! Everyone has been going crazy in the palace looking for you! — Lord Klaus, his coach and Nivan's father, approached them with worried and relieved eyes. — What are… are you hurt? Have you… — His eyes went to his son, in a sudden shock.
— Nivan… helped me. It is okay. I won't tell my father. I trust him.
Klaus fell to his knees, holding his chest in a big relief wave.
— Thank you, your highness… you're much generous… I can't… I can't express…
— He saved me. It is okay. I should thank him.
— No need to, your highness. It was an honor. — Nivan bowed slightly. — Then, I should be heading back home. Excuse me, your highness, father.
— Let's get you to Karl. He's been threatening to jump from a cliff since he turned to find that you were gone.
With a heavy heart, Rhovian nodded. It was not his intention to cause such commotion.
— YOUR HIGHNESS! — Karl cried out loud and ran toward him, kneeling and bowing his whole body to the prince. — Do not forgive me, your highness. I deserve to die for such a mistake. I should have never taken my eyes off of your highness' face. I am deeply anguished by such a careless attention and willing to be put to dea-
— Oh, for God's sake. The boy is fine. — The thunderous voice of the king was heard. — You stop these dramatic cries. If Rhovian had screamed for help from where the hell he was, we could never listen thanks to your loud lamentations.
The king approached and snatched Karl's shoulder, bringing the man up and glancing at him with eyes that said "pathetic", before turning to the prince.
— You are fine, right, son? — Rhovian nodded. — Good. Then go change those clothes and let us have dinner together, only the two of us. I have searched for you since I heard of your absence. I am starving.
The young man, not even 40 years old, walked away, hiding the relief tears that threatened to stream down his face.
At the table, when no one else was listening, King Ronan talked to Rhovian.
— Why did you sneak out like that?
The guy couldn't answer. He was both ashamed of the recklessness, feeling pathetic for not being able to head back by himself and fearing that Nivan's knowledge about his blood would be found out.
— Listen, son… I know you must feel suffocated up here. And I am really sorry. Had I thought better about the consequences of my act… you would not have been burdened with this. But, let me tell you this. If you want to do something possibly dangerous, you must be able to face it. I heard you were lost for hours. Scratched all over, in the woods… Bad people may be the worst threats one can face, but they are not the only ones. What if you had run into a hungry wild animal with bloodlust?
— I… I am sorry, father. I will not do that again.
The king sighed heavily.
— I am not saying you should continue living cooped up like this. I mean… I cannot expect you to live like this forever. So I made a decision to let you have a squire. Someone trusting and knowledgeable with whom you can find more things in common to talk about than with 40 year-old tutors.
Rhovian looked up to his father, his eyes widened.
— Are you… really allowing me to have a friend?
The king glanced at his son sternly, with a heavy expression.
— It breaks my heart to hear you say it this way. Yes, son. And I am sorry it took you so long to be able to have someone like this.
— I… am deeply grateful, your majesty. — Rhovian bowed his head.
— Now, no need for such courtesy. Let us finish our meal, right?
The next day, Nivan kneeled proudly before the king and the prince.
— It is a huge honor to be his highness' squire, your majesty. I am beyond grateful for this opportunity. I promise to stay loyal and true to your best interests.
— I can see Lord Klaus has educated you well, kid. Good. You can stand, now.
Rhovian blinked in disbelief. Was it a coincidence that he was the squire his father promised, when they met in the woods the day before? Could it be that his father figured out what happened?
— Now, there is an important thing about prince Rhovian you should know, young guy. — the king glanced at his son. — This is the biggest secret within the royal family. Only your father, Lord Karl, the royal physician and these two knights you see right here know the truth. Once you learn about it, your life will be devoted to Rhovian and the crown. You shall never talk about this to anyone, and more, you shall do your best to keep this a secret under any circumstances, even at the cost of your own life.
Nivan nodded respectfully.
— Good. Approach, the walls have ears and we cannot speak of these matters out loud.
The boy got closer, but then saw the needle in Karl's hand, ready to prick Rhovian's finger. Then he stopped right before the king, bowing his head again.
— I am sorry, my king. But I must say I already know the truth.
— You do? — The King frowned.
— It was by accident. When I found his royal highness in the woods yesterday, he had some scratches all over his face and hands. I used an herb extract and a clean cloth to clean the wounds and stop the bleeding.
The king turned to Rhovian.
— Why did you not tell me? — He asked in a stern voice.
— I… I am sorry, father. But I feared for Nivan's life. He was the one who saved me, and he was quite discreet about it, so I could not bring myself to betray him like that.
The king sighed and squeezed his eyes.
— You keep being reckless… but I will let it pass. Well, since you already know everythin-... Karl, for God's sake. Close your mouth and put this needle away.
— Ye-Yes, your majesty. I am sorry.
King Ronan shook his head, tired.
— Ruling over a nation does not ever get as hard as having my closest people under control… May heavens help me.
The clinking of swords was the only sound heard in the training grounds. Rhovian and Nivan engaged in a quite fierce mock battle, assisted by the older guy's father. The boys were now 17 and 19, respectively.
— Rhovian, you're letting your guard open. Nivan, teach him. — Lord Klaus' voice was heard.
Without batting an eye, Nivan struck Rhovian's unguarded side.
— Fuck! Did you have to be so harsh? — The prince cursed through gritted teeth.
— Sorry, your highness. I can't disobey my father's orders.
— Such a pity that I cannot even call you a son of a bitch, since I respect your mother so much. — Rhovian scoffed, blocking Nivan's next attack.
— Good thing, then. — Nivan laughed heartily.
— You guys! Stop babbling out and focus on the battle. If you keep this stupid behavior, you will both be dead in a battlefield before you even make out the enemy's coat of arms.
— Yes, sir! — Both guys shouted together, before turning their attention back to the duel.
— Ahw, fuck. I'm sore all over. — Nivan complained while dropping to the ground and removing his helmet.
— Good thing. You did the same to me. — Rhovian took his bottle and gulped down almost all the water in it.
— It is ever an honor, your royal highness. — Said the older guy, with a mocking bow. The prince kicked his shin in response.
— Let us eat. I am starving. — Rhovian got up and they both headed to the backgrounds of the castle to shower quickly before going to the dining room.
— So, when are we departing for the convention, again? — asked Nivan while pouring water from a bucket over his body.
— In three weeks, from what my father said.
— You know, the King may be your father, but calling him like this in front of the servants will not make for a good impression.
— As if he cared. — Rhovian scoffed, finishing his shower and taking the towel Karl offered him. He then noticed the purple stain on his friends side, a grin appearing on his face. — So, are you really gonna get knighted this year? You're being bested by no one more than myself.
— With all due respect, your highness, I advice you to go fuck yours-
— Who is causing a bad impression to the servants now? — Rhovian laughed heartily, throwing his towel over Nivan's head.
Four weeks had passed and the Kozhar Kingdom delegation had arrived at the Behrman Kingdom.
— Your Majesty the King Ronan Kozhar, and their royal highnesses, the Heir Prince Rhavi Kozhar, and the princes Rhovian and Rhemo Kozhar. — announced a man when the four royals stood in the middle of the throne room.
— Ronan, you look old. — Bellowed the King Yann, approaching them.
— And you, fat, Yann. — the two kings embraced each other with thunderous laughters.
— Your boys have surely grown a lot. And they got quite handsome. Though I do not know who they could have taken after such handsome masculine features.
Ronan Kozhar rolled his eyes, suppressing a laughter. It was known throughout the whole continent that he was considered the most handsome king that had ever sat on any throne. Even one of the most handsome men to have ever been known.
— Yes, yes. It is a real strike of luck they turned out so gallant.
— How old are they again?
— Rhavi is 20, Rhovian is 17 and little Rhemo has just turned 13.
— Yes, yes. A great trio of lucky boys, my congratulations.
— Thank you. Your daughters and son, on the other side, have been blessed by their gorgeous mother.
Queen Letinna held a warm smile while extending her hand to the King, who bowed and kissed it with utmost respect.
— Your majesty is as gallant and chivalrous as always. — She said.
— I only tell the truth, Queen Letinna.
— Oh, yes. I was the lucky one with that, thanks to the Gods. — Yann said, admiring his beautiful wife. — Ylenna, Naille, come here. Greet our guests. And… where's your brother?
— Here, father. — The poor prince, Lyann, who was trying to find a way to be noticed among the big gathering of royal people, appeared from behind his father and greeted the others with a bow.
The princesses approached the delegation and made a curtsy towards the Kozhars.
— It is a pleasure meeting both of you again, your majesty, Prince Rhavi. And just as much getting to know your royal highnesses, princes Rhovian and Rhemo. — Said the eldest, princess Ylenna.
— Always so polite and gracious. — Complimented Ronan. — Princess Ylenna has just turned 15, right? Lyann is 12 And princess Naille is now…?
— Ten, your majesty. — the young girl answered with a timid smile.
— Indeed. You will both be just as pretty as your mother. Now, greet the princesses, my sons.
Rhovian's both brothers bowed to the ladies, but Rhovian was dumbstruck staring at Ylenna, until his father discreetly pinched his arm, waking him up.
— It is completely ours, this pleasure, princess Ylenna, princess Naille. — Rhavi said in his low pitched voice.
— Well, I believe all greetings have been exchanged. Let us not delay this even more. Please, take your seats.
— Has Markel not arrived yet? — Ronan pointed, noticing the absence of the Lang's kingdom delegation.
— Has that man ever been anything else than late? — Yann shook his head, laughing. — He shall arrive tomorrow night.
Ronan suppressed a laughter, nodding in agreement.
In his seat, Rhovian was eating and laughing heartily while conversing with his brothers and Nivan. He was trying his best to avoid looking to the princess' side.
— You seem nervous, brother. Something up? — Rhavi, the Heir to the throne and the most cunning among the three of them, did not let Rhovian's uncommon behavior slide.
— Me? I… am merely happy to be dining with you all.
— Yes? — Rhavi squinched his eyes. — I will pretend to buy this.
Rhovian ignored his brother's remark, focusing on his dinner.
— You know, I've known you for five years already. I'd never seen you looking so out of your character as I did earlier. — Declared Nivan when they were surveying the castle grounds.
— Not you engaging in my brother's nonsense. — Rhovian rolled his eyes.
— I'm not talking about the dinner itself. I meant, when you were going to greet the princesses. Your face went blank, you looked like your mind had gone away.
— You are imagining things.
— Am I, really? — Nivan hid a smile and walked forward.
During the rest of their stay in the Behrman Kingdom, Rhovian had a few opportunities to meet princess Ylenna. But she always held the same expression on her face while looking at him. A frowned forehead, tightened lips and her head slightly turned to the side, almost as if wishing to avoid looking at him. That, when she was not actually avoiding his face, gazing down.
Rhovian, on the other side, felt as if his mind went blank whenever he saw her face, but her response to his presence pricked on his pride. He felt as if she actually had found him unpleasant, though he could not make out the reason for it.
— Am I not said to be handsome? — He muttered to himself while staring at the mirror.
Rhovian was pretty tall for a 17 year-old guy, with quite a bulky body, and he indeed took after his father. Everyone even said he was the most gorgeous out of the three sons of King Ronan.
— What are you doing, admiring yourself in the mirror? — Nivan asked while entering Rhovian's room.
— Nivan. Am I not attractive?
Nivan stared at his friend for a moment, before muttering to himself:
— The fuck…? — then adding louder: — I will call for the physician.
— What are you doing? I asked a simple question.
— Nothing in your current behavior is simple.
— I just want to understand what would make a lady have such an unpleased look on her face while facing me.
— Is it… princess Ylenna we are talking about?
Rhovian felt his ears getting hot and looked away from Nivan.
— Nevermind. We should prepare to leave.
In the following years, Rhovian and Ylenna continued to meet annually at the common banquets, held alternately among the three Kingdoms. Their meetings were almost the same, with not many words exchanged and Ylenna glancing at Rhovian with the same unpleasant expression.
On the other side, Rhovian felt more dumbstruck each time they met. As she was growing, Ylenna got prettier and prettier. Her hair longer, her eyes rounder and her face more dazzling. She also wore prettier jewels than the previous ones, and a discreet but enchanting lay of make-up that enhanced her beauty. Also, Rhovian could not avoid noticing the curves on her body and her waist outlined by the dresses she wore.
Still, Rhovian tried his best to dismiss those thoughts in his head. The young lady never showed any emotion towards him besides disgust, though Rhovian could not understand why.
Anyway, he had decided long ago to become a royal knight, and as such, he would swear to never claim any woman, nor produce any heir.
But when he turned 24, those resolutions came crumbling down against his will.
— How could you do this without even talking to me first? — He asked his father when he got both of them on the external ground of the Behrman's palace.
— I do not recall a King's son's wedding being something that anyone but the King himself should decide upon. — Ronan frowned and arched an eyebrow.
— You have never been like this, father. — Rhovian scoffed in disbelief. — You have never treated us as only "King's sons". Why now?
The king sighed, crossing his arms against his chest.
— Rhovian, why are you making such a fuss? Did you expect to stay unwed forever?
— Yes, father. That is precisely what I expected. You know exactly why.
— This marriage between the two of you will form a strong and needed alliance between the nations.
— Why me? Why could it not be Rhemo? — Rhovian's voice sounded anguished from anger.
— You are my second son, Rhemo is younger than you and even too young to get married. He will have his wedding later on, but right now, it is your turn to be of help to our nation.
— I do not want this. I will not marry princess Ylenna, no matter what you say. I have lived my whole life by your design, but please, not this.
— Careful, now. I am your father and king, Rhovian. You cannot possibly disobey me. I advise you to be reasonable. Do not make things harder. Times are changing and rumors of uprising are gaining force. We must stay strong and make alliances to avoid losing power.
— I never wanted to be involved in these political maneuvers. I wanted to be your knight, I was willing to revoke my rights to a woman and any heir of mine. How can I do this? How can I pass on this curse of having blue blood to a child of mine?
— Enough! — Ronan looked around nervously. — How can you be so imprudent, saying this out loud on a foreign land?
Rhovian also scanned the vicinity, before adding:
— I do not want to give this life to anyone else. I hated growing up isolated, in secret, fearing for my life and the others'. Why did you arrange this marriage to me, when you yourself said you were so sorry for having given me a mother like mine?
Ronan glanced away.
— Times are changing… some measures must be taken. Just trust your father and fulfill your role. It is okay if you do not produce an heir to Ylenna's womb. Just stay married to her.
And with that, the conversation came to an end.
On the day of the wedding, Rhovian had a bittersweet feeling.
— I know you're anguished, but try to cheer up a bit. 'tis your wedding day. And also, you're gonna marry the girl you've liked for seven years, now.
— Amazing. Marrying someone who looks like she would rather swallow a frog whole than stay in my presence for a few minutes.
— Now, there. Give her time. Maybe you guys just need to know each other a bit more.
— Maybe. But then, there is still the issue with my blood.
Nivan's face saddened in solidarity.
— You'll manage. Now, focus on your wedding day. — He approached his friend to say, with a mischievous smile: — or maybe your wedding night.
When the church's doors opened, Rhovian felt his heart speeding up like he was running down a sloppy mountain. Ylenna looked dazzlingly. His whole body shivered with anticipation of the moment he would call her his.
When she got to the altar, her eyes were still gazing down. Would she ever look at him with affectionate eyes?
The vows were exchanged and the moment of sealing their wedding with a kiss had come. Rhovian removed the veil over her face and, finally, she glanced up at him with warmer eyes. Feeling a discharge of joy running through his heart and veins, he cupped her face in his hands and finally touched her lips with his.